The doors creaked open, and soon enough, a dragonkeeper made his way towards the king. His steps were erratic and unsteady, evidence of his nervousness.
His eyes danced around the room, glancing at the candles, the floor, and even the ceiling. Only when he gazed at the skull of Balerion did he calm down a bit due to his sheer reverence for the beast
"Your Grace," the man knelt with difficulty due to his shivering knees.
Viserys narrowed his eyes, wondering what warranted such caution. He ordered the man to get up and speak his mind.
The dragonkeeper swallowed dry and lowered his head, gripping his ash-stained robes.
"Your Grace, I've come to report to you about…" he paused, uncertain of how to better word it so as to not raise the anger of the king. "About the grave mistake that was made in the dragonpit."
Rhaenyra felt her heart skip a beat. Had harm come to any dragon due to the dragonkeepers' carelessness? Had Syrax been harmed? If so, there would be hell to pay; she would make sure of it.
"What sort of mistake do you speak of, dragonkeeper?" Viserys said, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone.
Viserys was indeed wary of dragons, finding their power unpredictable and wild, but they were his family's symbol—the reason for their uncontested power. Safe to say that no Targaryen king worth his salt would let a crime against dragons go unpunished.
The dragonkeeper lowered his head even further. "My King, a couple of days back, a dragon hatched, one from an egg previously thought dead. We were about to report it to the king, but a few dragonkeepers wanted to research it, to study how it was possible for it to hatch. But the little hatchling is mighty fierce and won't let anyone near it, no matter how much we coax it using High Valyrian or fresh food. It was only today that I managed to slip away to inform Your Grace. I beg for your mercy and forgiveness, King Viserys." The dragonkeeper knelt again, sobbing, fearful of the punishment that could very well come his way.
Both Rhaenyra and Viserys' eyes narrowed. "When exactly was this dragon born?" Viserys asked, a bad feeling washing over him.
The dragonkeeper clenched his hands tight, knuckles popping and turning white. "On the day the queen died, Your Grace. Or rather, on the day the prince was born."
Viserys felt his heart thrum with rage; his blood pounded in his ears.
He called for his guards with a hateful roar, and they rushed inside, sword in hand. The White Cloaks all wondered what had angered their king as such.
The king turned to the shivering dragonkeeper. "Take me to it… Now!" The king roared.
Viserys and Rhaenyra made their way to the dragonpit, Kingsguard in tow, with the dragonkeeper leading the way.
The majestic structure of the dragonpit rose before long, its mighty columns standing tall like titans. A gigantic structure, made to house dragons the likes of Balerion and Vhagar.
They entered the dragonpit, and their steps echoed on the old halls.
When the dragonkeepers saw one of their own leading the king—and seeing the king's furious expression—their faces went pale, their backs became drenched in cold sweat. Most of the keepers knew of the offense being committed in these halls. A few of the older and bolder of their order had grown curious about a peculiar hatchling and failed to inform the king about it.
True enough that if it were just a peculiar hatchling, the king wouldn't have bothered with it, after all, it was one amongst several more.
But that very dragon had been born alongside the prince. The symbolism of that alone was enough to stir the realms. And yet they had dared to conceal it.
A couple of keepers considered making a run for the mountains, anything to escape the blade of the executioner, or worse… wearing the black.
Reality often disappointed, though, as they knew whoever tried to wouldn't make it and would meet a grim fate instead.
After all… no one can outrun a dragon.
The keeper led the king further and further into the dragonpit. And soon enough, they all heard it. The enraged hissing, the furious shrieking of a young dragon.
Viserys clenched his hand on Blackfyre's pommel, and Rhaenyra unknowingly did the same to Dark Sister. A few noticed it, and they knew that the Targaryens were properly enraged by the sounds.
Stopping by a door, the keeper stepped aside, indicating they had arrived. Though it wasn't completely needed, since the loud roaring was proof enough.
Viserys turned to one of the Kingsguard, he nodded his head and pointed towards the door. The White Cloak understood his liege's orders and walked forward. He raised a single foot and kicked the door open, startling the people who were inside.
Viserys walked in, head held high, his posture that of a ruler. His eyes scanned the room, taking note of all who were inside.
He saw the pale faces of the keepers as they looked at him. He grinned when he watched their pale countenances turn to a scowl when they noticed the dragonkeeper who had led him here. But when he looked towards the corner of the room, his expression turned hellish.
The room suddenly seemed smaller. The air hotter. And for a brief moment, Viserys forgot to breathe.
Huddled on the corner, hissing at anyone who approached, was a dragon hatchling unlike any other.
It was twice as big as a newborn dragon was supposed to be. Crimson scales that shone brighter than the ones from Caraxes. A broad frame that would put most adult dragons to shame. Long, elegant tail and wide, imposing wings.
By all accounts, this was what a true dragon was supposed to look like in Viserys' mind.
But what had driven him to the depths of his anger was the hatchling's eyes.
Eyes that were so very alike Antarys' that it was beyond simple coincidence.
'This is my son's dragon,' he thought. Then he looked towards the men who were now kneeling and groveling for his forgiveness. 'And these fools kept him locked up, starved like a rabid dog…Unforgivable!'
"Every man on this room will pay dearly for this…" Viserys voice boomed inside the room, locking the fates of the ones who had sinned against his son.